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• Artiste: Bob Dylan
• Titre: Walls Of Red Wing
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Oh, the age of the inmates I remember quite freely: No younger than twelve, No older 'n seventeen. Thrown in like bandits And cast off like criminals, Inside the walls, The walls of Red Wing. From the dirty old mess hall You march to the brick wall, Too weary to talk And too tired to sing. Oh, it's all afternoon You remember your home town, Inside the walls, The walls of Red Wing. Oh, the gates are cast iron And the walls are barbed wire. Stay far from the fence With the 'lectricity sting. And it's keep down your head And stay in your number, Inside the walls, The walls of Red Wing. Oh, it's fare thee well To the deep hollow dungeon, Farewell to the boardwalk That takes you to the screen. And farewell to the minutes They threaten you with it, Inside the walls, The walls of Red Wing. It's many a guard That stands around smilin', Holdin' his club Like he was a king. Hopin' to get you Behind a wood pilin', Inside the walls, The walls of Red Wing. The night aimed shadows Through the crossbar windows, And the wind punched hard To make the wall-siding sing. It's many a night I pretended to be a-sleepin', Inside the walls, The walls of Red Wing. As the rain rattled heavy On the bunk-house shingles, And the sounds in the night, They made my ears ring. 'Til the keys of the guards Clicked the tune of the morning, Inside the walls, The walls of Red Wing. Oh, some of us'll end up In St. Cloud Prison, And some of us'll wind up To be lawyers and things, And some of us'll stand up To meet you on your crossroads, From inside the walls, The walls of Red Wing.